The Path to Evil
by MeglomaniaAndFear
Summary: How did Phobos become the evil prince we know and (some of us at least) love? A version of that story. Rated T for now but may go up to M. Mix of comicverse and TV show.
1. Chapter 1

The path to Evil

It was a bad day for her royal highness Queen Weira. No, that was an understatement. It was the worst day of her life. She had given birth to a baby boy. Sure, there had been omens that the baby would be male, but she'd never quite believed them. How could _she_ give birth to a _boy._ She was the rightful Queen of Meridian. And no queen of Meridian had ever birthed a male before. She considered smothering him whist no one was looking and pretending he'd been still-born. However, she looked into his glimmering blue eyes and she somehow couldn't. As much as she hated the boy she could never kill him. He gurgled at her and the blonde fuzz on his head wiggled with the slight movement.

"Adreyya" she addressed a minor servant in the room, "take … Phobos … to the royal nursery." Queen Weira made a note to win the trust of all her servants by learning their names. She felt it made them less likely to betray her, and some of the women of the castle, when reminded regularly of their lesser status, made good conversation with her.

Zaden watched his son pass from the cot in the birthing room to Adreyya's arms. He did not ask to hold his child as much as he wanted to. The baby was beautiful and he loved it already, but he loved his wife more, and did not wish to offend her – or provoke her wrath. Then it hit him, she had named their son Phobos. The name meant fear in Meridian.

"Weira, why did you choose such a name?" he questioned his exhausted wife.

"Because this is a day of great unknown for our kingdom, and a day of fear for me. What if I cannot produce a female heir? Will that make me unworthy of my throne?" She fretted.

"Nothing could make you unworthy of Meridian, you are it's rightful queen. And what's more, is that you are a wonderful Queen." Zaden comforted her, moving closer to the bed she lay upon and kissing her forehead.

~~~ 8 years later ~~~

Soaring above Meridian's capital city the Escannor rulers' castle stood proud. Meridian's bright sun caused the golden brick-work to gleam as a new morning dawned on the city. Grass swayed in the breeze and in the palace gardens a great variety of flora bloomed to impress the Queen's visitors. She spent little time there, viewing it as a place in which to display her love of the ecology of the planet to her visitors. Of course in reality she cared little for such trifling matters. Her place was in the throne room, ruling the people. And this she did mostly with justice, and certainly with confidence and force. Emotional weakness was for men.

Meanwhile, Phobos touched a small blue flower that one of his class mates had trampled on, his touch brought the flower back to life. In shock and fear he quickly plucked the flower, before anyone could see this trace of magic in him. He pocketed the flower. It had reminded him of himself, constantly picked on until it was crushed. But then it had bloomed back to life when he picked it, hadn't it? He grinned to himself, perhaps there was hope for him afterall.

"What are you smiling at?" said a small green child, Rebekah, the child of one of Phobos' mother's advisor. She had prodded him hard on the shoulder as she asked the question.

"Nothing" he replied glaring into the dirt at his feet.

"You're so smart aren't you? Getting everything right in class. Well you're not, no one likes you, I _hate_ you. I heard your own mother hates you."

Phobos continued to glare at his feet. He felt angry, but he balled that up deep inside, and his overriding feeling was one of dejection.

By this point a crowd of small children had gathered, jeering at the young prince. Cries of "hit him!" rose from the group.

"You know we can't. We'll get in trouble. He's a _prince_." Rebekah spat the last word.

"Maybe we're not allowed to hit him because he doesn't know how to fight back." Another child teased.

"What kind of boy can't fight. I can fight. I'm the strongest boy my age." Boasted a humanoid brown child, Garet. He was the son of a castle guard.

"Children" Learna, Phobos' class teacher called, "Time for your next lesson. Come inside."

He sighed with relief. Every other boy in the castle was given mandatory fighting lessons (in hand-to-hand combat as well as with various staffs and, when they were a little older, sword and spear lessons). Phobos had not been taught to fight, so he knew he would have been beaten to a pulp. He used to think hopefully that he hadn't begun fighting lessons last year because he would be trained to be a king, and no monarch of the Escanor family ever had to fight with swords, staffs or fists. However, enough cruel remarks from his mother and the castle staff had put him in his place, and he knew his dreams of ascending to the throne were just that – dreams. And yet, he still snuck into the library every so often to read up on the issues of ruling, to study maps and history. He told himself it was so he could help the sister his parents said he would one day have to rule Meridian well. But deep down he knew he wanted to rule. And all he was taught in school was basic numeracy and writing and reading. He could already do all of that very well, thank you very much, and the female children who excelled by his age were allowed to move on to history and geography lessons. He wanted to learn about that now! Besides, if he ever ruled he was resolved that he would be a good king. He giggled at the word. 'King'. It sounded funny, Meridian had never had a king, just royal consorts, but he'd read about other planets having these 'kings'. Of course, he couldn't always understand what these books said, he was only 8, but he got the gist of them enough to believe in the possibility of male rulers being out there.

"Phobos!" Learna chided. "I am trying to teach and you are interrupting us with your deluded laughter. You will clean the school toilets again this afternoon!"

He groaned inwardly. There were servants for this. No royal consort had ever had to stoop so low so he didn't see why he should have to. Then he stooped off to the toilets.

"Phobos" Learna called to the child's retreating back.

"Yes Ma'am" he replied politely, turning around.

"That is not how royalty walks, hold yourself properly. One day you will be married to a woman of noble birth and she will expect better of you."

The thought of marriage sent a shudder down the young Prince's spine. He did not wish to be controlled, or sycophantic like his father. But, he supposed, it was inevitable. With a sigh he set to work on the scrubbing the toilet, regretting the necessity of a deep inward breath after a sigh and pinching his nose at the smell.


	2. Chapter 2

**2 years later, Phobos is 10**

"Farmer Hynda and her husband" Announced castle guard Karlen.

The supplicants entered the throne room and dropped into deep bows to Queen Weira. The Queen's throne took up a great deal of space in front of the back wall of the throne room, on a raised platform. The chair had oversized armrests and a large back, reaching tens of metres onto the wall, and inlaid with turquoise gems. Above the throne was situated a small round stained glass window. On either side of the throne were two incredibly long windows, in purple and green stained glass. Portraits of past Queens lined the other walls and the centre of the space was taken up by a long deep purple carpet leading to the throne. On either side of the carpet were long, ornate wooden benches, on which sat the courtiers and visitors of the Queen.

Queen Weira wound one of her long red braids around her hand, truth be told, she was a little bored. It felt like this was her 100th supplicant of the morning. Still, it would not do to show her boredom, all of her subjects had some little importance. And she would be a better Queen than her mother, who had cared deeply for her daughter, but little for her Queendom and its subjects. She had loved her mother, but also been very aware of her weaknesses. The riots that had broken out across Meridian under her rule were her mother's fault, in Weira's eyes.

"Approach." Weira greeted the couple with a commanding tone. It would do no good to be too welcoming, her control over the planet was maintained by her stern, yet just attitude, she believed. If she sometimes got a little too angry, well, she was the heart of Meridian, it was her birth right to act as she saw fit. She sometimes worried if she deserved that birth right, having borne a male child into the world made her question her legitimacy as a ruler. It wasn't supposed to happen in her bloodline.

"Your highness" said Hynda deferentially. "My prize gulong is outside stamped with my initials, however the owner of the neighbouring farm has also stamped her with her initials. I swear to you, my Queen, the animal belongs to me. It was birthed by one of my gulongs."

"Hynda," the Queen addressed her "Are not the best of any farm's animals supposed to be taken as tax each season? And were not this season's taxes taken last week?" The Queen's words were laced with subtle threat.

"Yes, your majesty" the woman said fearfully, an apology in her voice. "It's not the best, just my favourite …" The woman trailed off weakly.

"I am not here to listen to lies. The crown will take the gulong. However, yourself, and your neighbouring farmer will each receive a new young gulong as a replacement, for your troubles. Should I hear that you decide to keep both there will be trouble. The mines could always do with a few more workers."

Hynda shuddered in fear at the mention of the mines. But she bowed and said gratefully "Thank you, your highness." Before walking out backwards with her husband.

Near the castle barracks was a large training ground on which new recruits and the palace's boys learnt to fight. The beginners' training ground was a sandy circle near the edge of the training ground the guards and soldiers used.

Zaden stood in front of his son. "Hit me son."

"I don't want to hurt you" Phobos replied meekly. That was a lie. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to hurt his father who always agreed with every cruel word his mother dropped like poison from her tongue. But he knew those thoughts were bad thoughts, ones not to act on.

"You begged me to let you learn to fight," Zaden chided.

It was true, though in Phobos' eyes he hadn't lowered himself quite to begging, just cute faces and an overuse of the word 'please'. "The other children say I am not a proper boy because I am not learning to fight. They also say I am not a proper royal as I am not learning magic either."

"Phobos you have no magic, you can't learn something that isn't possible for you!" Zaden laughed.

Phobos found his hands forming into fists. He did have magic, he'd been practicing bringing dead plants back to life and conjuring small bright lights and illusions, but with no guidance it had gone wrong as often as it went right. Which often meant clearing up messes as quickly as possible. Not to mention the gardener being blamed for the sudden increase in dead plants. As the sound of his father's laughter died down Phobos moved nearer and landed a punch square on the man's chest.

"I see we're starting then. Good. I always wanted to teach you to fight, you'll be able to protect your sister better this way. Hoping that you are granted one. Though you'd better not tell your mother about this, she forbade you learning to fight".

Phobos moved in closer thinking of his mother's rules. No doubt in place to ensure he was entirely useless. He moved his arms as though to hug his father and used Zaden's momentary confusion to strike his side, knocking him off balance.

"We fight with honour in Meridian, Phobos, don't prove yourself to be what everyone already thinks you are." his father chided.

"And what's that?" he asked as the two began sparring in earnest.

"A dark, dishonourable future for Meridian" he stated as though informing his son that 'A' comes before 'B'.

Phobos controlled his rage barely, striking his father's feet with his own foot and knocking him to the floor as he stifled the sparks of magic threatening to jump from his fingertips. He should be used to those kind of comments, it wasn't like he hadn't heard them before. But still, they didn't normally come from his father. He sighed, and reached a hand down to help his father up.

"You're getting the hang of this" he praised.

The two continued to fight until a servant appeared and, addressing Zaden, informed him that it would be dinner soon.

The Escanor's private dining room was grand. Not as grand as the formal banqueting hall, but still a sight to behold. Tapestries covered the walls where they were not fitted with windows swirled with decorative wrought iron, instead of the standard wooden bars that usually separated window panes in Meridian. The stone floor was scrubbed daily to so that it shone brightly in the dying embers of the evening sun. A thick, plush, carpet covered the centre of the room, under the ornately inlaid wooden table. A large, bejewelled chandelier hung from the ceiling over the table, and the table itself was set with fine silver cutlery and porcelain plates. Queen Weira graced the head of the table in her beautiful gown, the crown that had been passed down so many generations of Escanor's poised proudly on top of her scarlet locks. Zaden sat near her, whilst Phobos was assigned a seat nearer the end of the table.

Phobos hated the occasions when they dined here privately. At least in the banqueting hall he sat with nobles and whilst they too would mostly look at him with disgust, occasionally the odd deluded few would attempt to use him to make requests of his mother. It never worked out for them. He had learnt early on not to take these requests to his mother as they were met with outrage at a noble treating him as though he held some political sway. But he liked those deluded few anyway, it was nice to be treated with a modicum of respect. And there was always entertainment as part of the feasts. He liked the fire breathers best. When the fire dancers were women it was a fun challenge to work out who had been born gifted with power over fire and who was using more mundane techniques in their art. But at their private dinners conversation was sure to go one of two ways, either he was totally ignored, or…

"Phobos how is school going" Zaden inquired, hoping to give him an opportunity to impress his mother, after all, the boy was a genius.

"I -" it was only a split second before Phobos' reply was cut off.

"That hardly matters Zaden! I have a queendom to run and you want to talk about my embarrassment's _school work_." She spat the last two words.

Phobos was used to being referred to in a variety of colourfully insulting terms. This one was not new to him, but it still hurt. He had schooled himself to show no sign of this though. Weira was always talking about emotional vulnerability being exactly that – a vulnerability, a weakness. He would not show it. Perhaps one day he'd impress her enough to earn her respect. Love was out of the question. He didn't even believe his father loved him.

"I saw you teaching him to fight from the castle today" Weira continued "It will not continue."

"Why?" Phobos, despite himself, asked.

"The mistake dares question my decisions." She addressed Zaden in her outrage, then, turning to face him "Why, my darling, I would not want to give you the power to hurt members of this family. Especially the sister we hope you will one day have. A son of the Escanor family is a terrible omen, and one as bold as you even more so. Know your place."

Phobos nodded, "yes my Queen". He was not allowed to address her as 'mother'.

She blocked him from her view, turning to Zaden, to talk to the only male Escanor she had any love for "I dealt with many supplicants justly and honourably today, for example a farmer asked of me that…"

The days passed by and Phobos found himself more and more often pouring over books in the library, or taking them to the gardens, which were usually peaceful in the evenings, provided there were few guests over. All he seemed to be being taught in his classes at the moment was etiquette and deportment. And he had perfected that long ago. He did not want to disappoint his mother, and as much as he did not want to marry, he knew he would if it would earn him a little love from his mother. But she didn't know about his reading, and how much harm could having something of his own really do? He wasn't simply studying history, geography and law now, he also snuck out books on magic. He could feel his power growing every day. It was intoxicating.

Today he was sat in the library rather than the garden as he wished to cross reference the accounts of different historians on a past battle. He was curious as to whether a low born historian would see events differently to a noble one. He was so engrossed in his reading that he did not notice his father's approach until he was stood behind him. The book was forcibly slammed shut. The piece of paper was pulled from the table, Zaden's reflexes quicker than Phobos' as the elder's were honed by years of fighting.

"Why are you making notes on history books? … Wait a second, this says 'don't underestimate rebel forces', why would you ever need to be thinking about rebel forces?" His father asked his confusion showing on chiseled features that mirrored the young Phobos' own. However, the father's eyes were dull and showed a density that played foil to the young genius' intelligent, yet at this moment terrified, blinking.

"I just wanted to understand our history better, I didn't mean anything by that" Phobos replied with haste.

"… You were making notes on how to rule Meridian!" Zaden realized.

"No!" Phobos exclaimed, "It was notes to advise my sister with, when I have one!"

"We'll let your mother be the judge of that." Zaden growled. "She always said you presumed too much, you're too full of yourself, you're not as important as you think you are Phobos."

Phobos went to plead with his father, but his voice died in his throat, he would not lower himself to that. Zaden couldn't even punish his son without seeking the Queen's advice. He would not be like his father, he would not be weak. He would take his punishment without complaint. It seemed everyone thought he deserved it. Some days even he did.

Zaden lead Phobos to the Queen's chambers. Phobos dragged his feet slightly, before remembering his comportment lessons and straightening his posture to emulate that of the guards and soldiers on duty. They at least warranted respect, even if they could not rule the realm. His father held the books and paper, the physical representation of his pipe dream. He had always known it would be another dream torn away from him.

They reached the tall, solid oak doors of Weira's chambers. The guards stood on either side of the impressive, intricately decorated doors knocked twice before announcing the royal consort's presence.

"He may enter" Weira called out from within. The doors were opened wide by the guards. "Zaden, my dear… Why did you bring the brat!" She trailed off after spotting Phobos stood behind her husband.

"I found him in the library. With these." Zaden informed her.

"These…" She paused reading the notes he had been making. "These are notes on how to rule a queendom; you think you can do better than me? YOU!? You are nothing, prince of nothing, prince of dust."

With that Weira raised her hands in the air and summoned her power. She moved her arms down, literally incandescent with rage and magic, and she shot a pure white stream of power at the young prince. He stood rigid in his shock until the bolt hit him, then he began to convulse in pain, screaming out with agony. After what felt like an eternity to the ten-year old he was dropped to the floor.

"Get out of my sight" Weira barked.  
Phobos crawled, shaking, to the door, which the guards had left open throughout the ordeal. He was red in the face with the embarrassment of them having seen. Sweat marked his robes and his long blond hair was stuck to his face. He stumbled to his feet and staggered back to his own chambers. Along the way something in the young prince snapped. He swore to himself this would not be his last day in the library. He would continue to study magic more than anything else, and one day, he vowed, he would have the power to not only shield himself from her attacks, but to hurt her back. He was done with hoping for her respect. And he was done with standing in the background. One day, he would rule.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: I just noticed that Phobos' teacher's name, Learna, doesn't phonetically sound the way I intended so I will be spelling it Leigharna from now, apologies. Also, obviously I do not own W.I.T.C.H, and sadly that includes me not owning Phobos, I forgot to state the obvious on previous chapters.**

 **Thank you to anyone who has been reading and to Velixare for the review, now, on with chapter 3.**

~~~ 2 Years later ~~~ Phobos is 12 ~~~

Phobos shut the book of pressed flowers he had been looking through. He had collected them from the garden when no one was looking and put them into a blank book he'd found on one of his many trips to the library. The book was beautifully bound with golden edges to the pages and an ornately patterned cover in cerulean and scarlet. Occasionally he would pull a dried flower out and use his powers to momentarily bring it back to life, but he knew keeping live flowers in his room would bring up too many questions of who had gifted him with them, or criticism for being so sentimental as to pick himself flowers. As a result, he always pressed them back into his book.

He put out the floating orbs of light he had created around the room with a thought and pulled his silken covers over himself. He supposed his rooms were luxurious in comparison to the commoners' small wooden homes, however, their grandeur was merely befitting of a lesser noble. Not the child of royalty. Not that he felt very royal today.

His angry outburst at Leigharna in his classes had earnt him a trip to his mother's chambers where he was again assaulted with her magical wrath. He had only meant to question the teacher's comment on the correct placement of reservoirs to make the most of natural rainfall, but she had told him repeatedly how he was wrong, and too full of himself, when he knew he was right! He had shouted a little, and was immediately hauled off by castle guards for his exertions. By the age of twelve even boys in the palace were allowed to learn geography; he would have loved the lessons if he hadn't already known it all, not that he could admit that. His clandestine trips to the library had to stay secret, or he feared more than pain would befall him at his mother's hands. It was happening regularly now, at least once a month he would commit an act so heinously presumptive that he would experience that agony again, and again. He felt sporadic stabbing pains all over his body for the hours afterward, and knew that tonight it would be a while before he slept.

He tossed and turned, for what felt like hours, until the pains had fairly much stopped occurring. As he fell asleep his last few waking thoughts turned to his loneliness. He would not admit having such a weakness, but it hurt. His father was his mother's pet, he could not speak to Zaden. The castle staff all saw him as an omen for bad times ahead in Meridian - the disruption of the established order. And his classmates picked on him mercilessly, they had all heard their parents talking of what he meant for the queendom and acted accordingly.

~~~ The next day ~~~

It was a Wednesday, which meant no classes. The other boys would be training in the fighting arts, he thought jealously. Still, he could sneak off to the gardens or barricade himself in his room and practice with his still growing powers. His powers were stronger every day and the thought filled him with furtive pride. He wished he could practice fighting with magic. He had already mastered glamouring himself to look like castle staff members, creating energy beams (though he had to be careful with those as they tended to cause a fair bit of destruction), creating shields (with no one to fight against he couldn't be sure that these worked), and he was working on levitation and draining life force from castle plants and animals (occasionally he felt a little guilty about the latter).

He was just heading to the gardens, with a fairly secluded practice spot in mind when his father called his name, "Phobos, how are you?"

"You don't care." He splurted in shock.

"Phobos, I do, you are a long way from the child we wanted but we still care about you, your mother realizes she has gone too far recently, but you need to learn humility." His father said a hint of an apology in his voice.

Phobos laughed internally, his father was even apologetic to 'the disappointment', how pathetic. He was nothing but Weira's tool. He would never allow himself to be controlled like that. And as for his mother, he highly doubted she had ever said anything of the like. "Father, leave me." Phobos commanded, a little of his disgust evident in his voice.

Zaden stuttered in shock before allowing his son's dominating tone to steer him back the way he had come.

Phobos grinned to himself as he strode to the gardens. It was very rare that even a cook, cleaner or castle guard obeyed his orders, let alone the royal consort. It felt good. More than good – exhilarating.

~~~ In the Gardens ~~~ Cedric is 13 ~~~

Cedric sat by an impressive fountain, watching small fish swim around the pool at the fountain's base. He wondered if the fish ever got sucked into the fountains spray and laughed at the thought of fish gore spraying everywhere. Then he went back to frowning. His mother had reacted with more anger than he'd ever seen on her usually serene features in his life when he'd … changed. Changelings were rare throughout the queendom, and they were treated with fear and disgust. It didn't help that most changelings' changed forms were rather monstrous. His was more so than most, he turned into a large snake-boy. His mother was seeking an audience with the queen to beg for forgiveness for her transgression – she hadn't realized that the man she had slept with all those years ago was a changeling, and as a result now Cedric had hit puberty his changeling characteristics had emerged. Cedric lobbed a stone angrily into the water, disrupting the fish.

He was distracted by a flash of light that illuminated the gaps between leaves of a nearby hedge, the leaves themselves were momentarily turned black in contrast with the bright white light. He rubbed his eyes, was this another symptom of the changes he was going through? Visual disturbances? He thought he'd better check it out just in case. He walked over to the source of the light and saw a blond boy, with his back to him, encircled by an iridescent shield-bubble and shooting beams of light with his hands. The boy's hair and robes swung round him as he moved with the magic he was channelling at nearby plants. Where the strikes hit they singed the plants leaving leaves and branches to crumple to the ground.

So this was the ominous prince they all spoke of. He'd heard all sorts of tales in the countryside he lived in: that the prince was hideous, brutish and stupid, that he was the embodiment of evil, the stories ranged but none were nice. However, none mentioned him possessing any power over magic. Cedric dropped to one knee, incredibly impressed by the prince's private performance. "My prince."

Phobos' swirled round, the shield collapsing around him and the last beam he had been shooting missing the hedge and creating a pot hole in the ground. "Who are you!" The young prince screamed.

"Cedric, my liege." The boy spoke, his voice tinged with fear. The prince's magic proved to Cedric that some of the stories he had heard were not true, but still, the look in the boy's eyes was terrifying, and he wondered if the 'evil' part was not a lie.

Phobos considered Cedric, 'my liege' he had said. This had to be a cruel joke. A cruel joke that would result in his mother finding out about his powers and disposing of him. He raised his hand in the air palm outstretched, aiming at the older boy.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you now." He demanded, fighting the tremor that threatened to enter his voice at the thought of killing someone. If that was what it took to protect himself, what did another bully matter to him?

Cedric breathed deeply and took the biggest risk of his life. He transformed. In front of the prince of Meridian no less. He could only guess at the treatment the prince had received over the course of his childhood, but judging by the untrue rumours and the wild fear and hatred in his eyes, it had not been a happy one. "Because I'm like you. Everyone thinks that I am a monsssster too. I transssformed for the firssst time accidentally last month. My mother immediately started our journey to the capital, to ssseek forgiveness for having borne me into the world. Sssshe's assshamed of me. Sssince we ssset off I've been learning to control my transformations but sssometimes it just happensss. And people are disgusted by the sssnake they see. I think you might just know how hate and disgussst feel." He finished hopefully.

"Cedric…" The boy murmured, he paused for what felt like a lifetime to the changeling. Then he extended the hand in a different way to before, and took Cedric's in his, pulling him up from his kneel. Cedric looked questioningly at Phobos, did this mean he wouldn't be killed? "Well… I supposed they'd kill me if I killed you anyway, so we might as well be friends." He finished his ominous words with a friendly grin and stepped back to take in the boy's snake form.

"You don't look very monstrous to me, just an overgrown snake with a weird face" Phobos said considering Cedric.

"Thanksss" Cedric hissed, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Phobos laughed out an apology, his face taking on an angelic aspect as the rarely heard sound escaped his lips. "Transform back and I'll show you around the gardens," he ordered.

"Of course my prince", there was a flash of light as the changeling's form changed.

It felt good to be obeyed. This was a good day. Phobos' eyes shone with hope and happiness as he took his new friend on a royal tour.

~~~ Weira's Chambers ~~~

Weira glanced out of the window into the lush gardens far below her window, she supposed they were beautiful but they lacked the grandeur of the rest of the palace, plants, in her view, could never be imposing. She noticed her son leading another boy toward the maze that took up the top left quadrant of the winding gardens.

"Who is that?" She questioned her husband.

"I think that's the changeling … despicable creatures, changelings. I heard from a guard that the boy's mother is staying in the city for a few days so she can be granted an audience to speak about the boy when you hold the open court tomorrow."

"He's a changeling? He could corrupt our already presumptive mistake of a child. We don't want him turning against us." She worried.

"Weira, let him have this. The boy is friendless and alone in the world. You may not like him, and he's far from the child we wanted, but I know deep down you love him." Zaden spoke up.

"Fine. But I'm doing this for you Zaden. Oracle knows what the changeling sees in our son. Still, I will allow the two monstrous beings their friendship. I suppose it can do little harm, they're both nobodies." Weira relented.

Zaden hugged her from behind breathing "I knew you cared about this family" into her ear.

She turned to look him in the eye, "I care about you. My love." But as she went to embrace him she found her head turning back to the garden, he might not be much, but still, she had been given a son and she would not destroy him.

~~~ In the gardens ~~~

"Race you to the middle!" Phobos shouted at his companion, already setting off on a route he knew well.

"Hey! You live here, you already know the way!" Cedric complained.

"Do you know how many magical things there are in this castle? Maybe the maze moves?!" He said, sewing doubt in his companion's mind.

"But you have magic, you can just blast through the hedges!"

"I don't need to risk my life by using my powers where I might be seen from above, just to beat you. I can win anyway. Chances are, I'm cleverer than you." Phobos said with pride.

"Prove it!" Cedric said racing past the young prince with his superior speed.

Phobos followed the route he always took to the centre of a maze which was, in truth, not partial to rearranging itself. Only, to his shock, when he reached the centre Cedric was already stood there panting.

"But there's only one route that leads to the centre!" Phobos exclaimed angrily.

"Maybe the maze rearranged itself." Cedric countered a laugh bubbling up in his voice.

Phobos turned around to see a hole in the hedge where the boy had transformed and barrelled through. He began to laugh, and as if having been given permission Cedric allowed himself to laugh too. "The gardeners … will be … so angry" Phobos managed to get out between uncontrollable fits of laughter.

Phobos straightened up after a few minutes, then cajoled his friend into following him. "Let's go to the mausoleum, its where all the dead royalty are. You can feel the magic in the air, and its haunted! I bet you'll be terrified!"

"Will we be allowed?" Cedric fretted.

"I'm a prince! Of course we will." The last few words warbled with Phobos' uncertainty. "… Well, maybe not. But I know a secret entrance."

The prince led his friend in through a hole in the back wall through which the boys could just fit. Phobos stood up in the darkness brushing the dust from his robes.

"Prince Phobos, I can't see anything." Cedric said dubiously.

Phobos summoned several orbs of bright white light and caused them to hover in the corners of the large space. They illuminated the many tombs, inscribed stones and statues that were replicas of past queens and their families. "You know what I've never had the chance to do…" the prince trailed off slyly grinning.

"What's that?" Cedric felt his nervousness from earlier return, the prince could kill him in this space and probably get away with it.

"Fight with my powers!" He said launching a beam of scorching energy at Cedric, it deliberately missed him, sailing past the left side of his face.

Cedric grinned back and pulled a ceremonial sword from the wall. He had been taught to fight well (he thought), but his human form did not have the strength of his snake form. However, he was not yet comfortable in his snake form, and he certainly hadn't tried learning to fight in it, he mostly just tried not to transform, when he felt a transformation threaten. As a result, he was losing badly to the prince who, within minutes, had encased him in a ball of energy that stung to touch and couldn't be broken by thrashing around with the sword.

"Transform!" Phobos ordered "Changelings are supposedly much stronger in their changed form."

Reluctantly Cedric complied. He wasn't a fan of being in snake form, but the prince had already seen it once today, and he'd used it to win the maze race. He supposed this wouldn't make the prince hate him. A flash of light brightened the stone room even further and Cedric's magical cage dissipated as he transformed. He dropped the sword sensing that in this form it was unnecessary, instead he moved forward to take a strike at the prince with the talons of his right hand.

No sooner had he begun to swing his arm than the prince had gone on the defensive and conjured a shield of power. Phobos aimed several retaliatory shots at Cedric's body. However, the effort of maintaining a snake-proof shield meant that the shots were weak and Cedric caught the power with a mild shock in his hands. Phobos' protective shield had gained a hole at the bottom due to the effot of the large blast of magic he was preparing to hit Cedric with. Cedric, spotting this, spun his tail under him and caught the prince off guard, tripping him to the floor. The magic Phobos had been summoning fired off into the corner of the room and the statue of Queen Allia the second crumbled to dust.

Cedric's face was the picture of shock. Some past queens hadn't had that amount of power at Phobos' age. He remembered his mother telling him about what queens could do and disintegrating rock was a skill that used a great deal of power.

"What? You thought I was useless too?" He demanded clambering up from the ground and continuing his magical onslaught.

It wasn't long before Cedric was once again trapped in a bubble of power, and this time even in snake form he couldn't break out. Phobos' brow was dripping sweat and he was shaking from the exertion.

Cedric dropped to one knee again. "I'm impresssed my prince. When you rule Meridian I would like to be by your ssside."

He transformed back, still imprisoned. Phobos' shock broke his concentration and the bubble around Cedric dissipated once again.

"I …" he didn't know what to say, he had never dreamed that anyone would support his secret ambition. He rushed over to the kneeling Cedric (comportment lessons temporarily forgotten) and hugged his friend. "Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: This story will attempt to explain how an innocent child can turn evil, but I do not mean to justify his later actions. Even when you are brought up with hard situations like these, continued evil in later life is a choice.**

 **As ever thanks for reading folks, I still don't own W.I.T.C.H.**

Phobos and Cedric returned to the main gardens. They sat down on a stone bench around which an ivy-like plant wove its vines of leaves and purple berries. Phobos knew for a fact that the berries were poisonous, Garet had once dared him to eat one, saying that they weren't poisonous to royalty and if he didn't eat one he was a wimp. He had been 6 at the time and keen to prove himself. He had spent several days bedridden vomiting all over the disgruntled medic assigned to him. Of course that had proven him to be a fake to the other children and they had spent a few weeks teasing him with the nickname 'fakey-Phobos'. He shook himself from the memories, he wasn't gullible any more. A lot had happened in the six years that separated him from the memory. He was stronger in so many ways than he had been then, and his concern now was how to prevent his new friend being snatched away from him.

"What will happen to you now?" Phobos asked.

"My mother will speak to yours tomorrow. I don't know what will happen. And I'm scared." Cedric admitted.

"It won't be too bad; the open court is public. Anyone can watch, so she wouldn't want to be seen condemning a child too harshly." Phobos reasoned.

"I hope you're right." Cedric said, his worry evident in his voice.

"Trust me, she cares what the people think of her – a little too much I'd say, it's not like peasants can stop the ruler of Meridian" He said imperiously, "Whatever happens, write to me."

"How? I don't have a bird to deliver letters." Cedric said sadly.

"There are some in the palace post room… but I doubt they'd let me use them."

"You have a post room? Wow. You wouldn't believe what my house is like. The palace is incredible. I couldn't believe it when I arrived." Cedric said, allowing some of the awe he'd been feeling all visit to leak into his voice as he rushed through his words.

Phobos smiled smugly. "I could show you my chambers." He offered, hoping for an opportunity to show off.

"I don't think I'm allowed to, I'm only here today because my mum needed somewhere to leave me whilst she signs up for the open court tomorrow… Oh no! I was meant to meet her back at the fountain hours ago." Cedric realised, after noticing how their shadows had lengthened. In the capital there was such a thing as clockwork, but he didn't really understand that, he was used to telling the time by the angle of the sun.

"I'll see you, sometime." Cedric said weakly.

"You'll write to me. And when I rule Meridian you will be my right-hand man." Phobos said with force.

Cedric grinned at him and said goodbye before running off in the direction of the round fountain with the fish. Phobos sighed at the retreating back of his only friend. He would miss this day. Then he spotted some particularly beautiful irises. He stooped down to pick one. It was gorgeous, and he remembered reading somewhere that irises represented paradise for the living. Today had been a perfect day as though from someone else's life. He thought the symbolism was fitting.

~~~The palace the next day ~~~

Phobos would not lose his first and only friend. It was enough that the talk of him representing everything bad in existence among every adult in the land had turned nearly every child against him. It was enough that he was picked on mercilessly by the castle children. It was enough that he was tortured frequently by his mother. He would not lose the glimmer of light in his life. He had found what felt like the one person who didn't believe the rumours. He would not lose that. They thought him weak. He would show them what pure strength looked like.

He left his room after eating the breakfast the servant had brought him, like any other day. He knew this servant well, though he had never bothered to learn his name he knew that the servant was hoping for a higher station in the castle. Not much could be lower than serving the hated prince. Phobos headed to a secluded alcove in a rarely used corridor of the castle. There he glamoured himself as a minor noble whom he knew to be ill currently. It was odd to be in the body of a blue middle-aged woman. Very odd. And he didn't like it one bit. He might not be as fit as other boys his age but he still missed his old agility and flexibility. He also had to admit as he caught his reflection in a mirror that he missed his own face. At times his good looks had served him well, earning him food against the better judgement of the kitchen staff he visited when he was told to skip a meal as punishment for a minor offence. Oh well, it was necessary. He had found someone who's presence in his life would help him survive. No way was he losing that. He'd do anything to protect what was his. Even when it meant going up against the Queen.

Phobos entered the throne room and sidled onto one of the long wooden benches toward the front of the grand room. He didn't like being so close to the throne where his mother would sit for fear that his glamour might slip a little and she would work out who was really sat in front of her. However, it was worth the risk, he needed his voice to be heard by her when Cedric's mother came in to plead her case later.

The throne room was soon completely full of courtiers and visiting nobles, and a queue of supplicants had formed outside the main doors. Phobos had made a visit to the library late into the night yesterday. He had looked through his mother's book of nobles, it detailed who was who in the current court and was updated once a month. It featured small sketches of each noble and lists of who was allied with who. Clearly it was an incredibly important political aide and Phobos wondered why it wasn't better protected. Sure it was in the Queen's private section of the library, but a simple bit of magic had unlocked the door and he was sure others could have picked the lock. He felt that she was too comfortable in her reign, he would never be so trusting. The woman he was impersonating was called Sadrelle, and he had memorized the faces and names of her most trusted friends and allies so he could avoid sitting next to them. He didn't want to get caught up in conversation with someone who knew Sadrelle well.

Queen Weira entered from a door to the left and behind the throne and its flanking stained-glass windows. At her entrance everyone in the room automatically stood. She walked gracefully to the throne before settling herself with elegance in the large, imposing chair.

"Today's open court is now in session!" shouted the formally dressed guards on either side of the dais on which stood the throne. A fanfare blared loudly.

The court sat back down and supplicants began filtering in one by one. Often the Queen's decisions were met with applause from the crowd. Occasionally a courtier would stand up to advise the queen on her decisions or to question them, but should she disagree with them they backed down immediately. By the tenth supplicant Phobos was beginning to worry, he knew he didn't have long until he would be forced to sneak out as his lessons would be beginning any minute. If he were to be more than a few minutes late he would be sure to be on the receiving end of some inventive and demeaning punishment.

Then it happened, a blonde woman with features similar to Cedric's when in human form walked falteringly through the large doors and along the opulent central carpet to the Queen's dais. She bowed deeply, Phobos could almost taste her nervousness in the air.

"Your highness, Tangela Hoffard, the teacher of the Tichmond village school." Announced a guard.

"Rise." Commanded Weira. "What brings you here today, you have travelled far."

"My son…" There were tears in Tangela's eyes "I love him dearly, but, your highness, I have erred. He is a changeling."

There was a loud intake of breath from the court. Shocked and appalled mutters rippled through the assembly.

"I didn't know!" Tangela shouted over the noise, "I did know what the boy's father was … I swear it I didn't know!"

"Silence" Weira barked angrily, "This is the royal throne room, and you will not behave thus!" She chastised the gathered nobles. "Tangela, you may love your son, but that love is misplaced. Changelings are masters of deceit; he does not return your love."

"He's my son" Tangela whimpered.

"There is only one thing to be done about a changeling. There is no place for changelings in this queendom. He will be put to death." Even as she said this there was an apology in Weira's eyes, she did not enjoy sentencing a child to death, but changelings represented too great of a threat.

Phobos gathered his courage and stood, "If I may speak my Queen?" he asked politely.

"Sadrelle? Go on." The queen allowed.

Phobos turned side on so he could address most of the court as well as the Queen. "Is this the type of Queendom you want to rule?" He addressed his mother. "Is this the realm you wish to live in?" He addressed the court. Then taking them all in with a commanding sweep of his eyes "A Queendom which sentences children to death? A queendom with no care for love, for kindness, for parental affection? My Queen, my friends, if we kill the young changeling we lower ourselves to the level of the monsters of Meridian."

His eloquence startled applause from the crowd. Queen Weira's eyes smouldered with rage. Never in her lifetime had a lesser noble dared to speak like that in front of the assembled masses. And yet what could she do? She would look cruel now if she ignored Sadrelle's advice. She made a mental note to have the woman shown her place in the near future, for now though…

"Your words are charming Sadrelle, however the changeling still presents a threat. I will not have it executed. Instead the changeling will be sentenced to the mines." Weira said calmly – it took all her will power to appear thus.

Phobos sat back down, to claps on the back from his surrounding nobles. A genuine smile lit up his face, he had achieved a victory this day. Still, the mines were not much better than death, if what he had heard about them was true. Only the worst criminals of the entire queendom were sent there. He had earnt a victory against his mother, but had he really helped his friend at all?

Tangela was thinking similarly: that the mines were no great reprieve for her son, but she thanked the Queen politely and scurried out backwards to see her son.

~~~ An inn in the capital city ~~~

"Cedric," she addressed her son through her tears, "I'm so sorry, my baby, the Queen sentenced you to the mines. You must run away. The royals and the palace guards do not know what you look like, you may be safe."

"Why can't I stay with you mother?" He said through his own tears.

"The first place they'll look for you when I do not deliver you to the castle guards will be with me, for both of our safety you have to run away, don't take your things, it can't look like I told you to run or they'll take me to the mines in your place." Tangela held her son tightly to her.

"I'll miss you mother." Cedric said sorrowfully.

"I'll miss you more than you can ever know my dear, now run!"

Cedric left the inn and his mother through the back door, he ran through the labyrinthine city streets where the few soldiers on patrol presumed he was just a young boy playing chase with an out-of-sight friend. He reached the forest at the edge of the city and slowed down, panting. He dropped to his knees and cried, he could feel a transformation brewing, perhaps due to his distress. He let it happen. He had already lost everything, his home, his mother, his old friends in his village who had turned on him a month ago when he first transformed, and his new royal friend who he doubted he would ever see again.

He slithered along through the forest, wondering where he would live and what he would eat. For now, he didn't want to stop moving, the physical exercise was helping to quiet his mind.

~~~ 2 days later ~~~

Cedric was tired now, very tired. He'd managed a few hours' sleep last night under a tree and still in his transformed body. He felt safer transformed, fewer of Meridian's myriad dangerous creatures would attack him as a giant snake. He was on the hunt for clean water, he'd tried drinking from the river in the forest but that had made him violently sick. Now he was following it to its source.

His head felt very odd, not just painful but also like it was going to float away, his whole body ached from his unrelenting slithering and his stomach was more painful than it had ever been before; he had lived in a poor village but he'd always eaten at least once a day. It was as he was taking stock of his various pains and ailments that he noticed a light ahead.

Now he was seriously concerned. What _was_ wrong with him? Unless it was another prince with magic powers? He shook his head and an over-tired giggle escaped from him. The prince would be in the palace, where he belonged. So what on Meridian was going on. He approached the light and, hiding behind a tree realized that it was a camp fire. A small encampment with tents, and an animal on a spit over a large fire stood ahead. They even had a makeshift set of pipes channelling water from the spring at the source of the river he'd been following into various buckets. If he could just grab one of those buckets…

He slithered forward and a very large branch snapped under his coils. Immediately a group of varied creatures emerged from their tents and stood facing him, silhouetted by the fire. Some of the creatures looked human, others were monstrous. There was a furry spider-like being, some kind of vulture, and an array of other large crawling and slithering animals. The humans among them clutched makeshift weapons. But at the sight of him lowered their raised weapons.

"Who are you?" Cedric falteringly asked, terror racing through his veins.

"We're changelings, and by the looks of it, you are too. Unless you're always that ugly." Quipped the vulture. As she said this she changed into a teenage girl. As did many of the other creatures around her.

They were all youthful, ranging from children to young adults. And many of them had a savage aspect about them even in human form.

"Come on, lets get you some water," Said a tall boy, "you look parched. I'm Aarod. I guess I run things around here."

The vulture-girl elbowed him in the ribs and laughed "Not if I can help it."

"That sssounds great. Thank you ssso much." Cedric said, then realising he was still in snake form, he transformed to his human form.

"Oooh and he's attractive" cooed the girl who had been a spider of some sort. "I'm Miranda" she said with confidence.

~~~ 2 weeks later ~~~ In the Castle ~~~

"Weira, that changeling you condemned to the mines to, the one who never made it, he was the boy we saw Phobos with a few weeks ago. But you knew that when you condemned him, didn't you?" Zaden's voice was thick with the accusation.

"Yes, and the boy is probably dead now. But what was I supposed to do Zaden? His mother should have hidden him; she shouldn't have told the crown about a new changeling if she wished to preserve it's life. She didn't know how to play the political game, that's why she lost her son. I had no choice. It is my duty to protect this queendom, not to pander to _Phobos' feelings_." She said the last two words like they were truly beneath her.

"Then why didn't you warn her? When she signed up for the open court?" Zaden queried, his tone verging on incredulous.

"Because I wasn't there! Zaden do you think I wanted to do that to a child? The boy was a changeling, yes, but personally I did not think he deserved too severe of a punishment as he was still a child and I'd heard no reports of him being mixed up in the sort of violence most changelings cause. But I am a _Queen,_ I have responsibilities you could never understand. I have to protect this realm. I have to show that I am a strong leader, despite producing my greatest embarrassment, my son. Some of the people think I have doomed Meridian by having Phobos and keeping him alive. Every religion on this planet says that there should be no males born to an Escanor queen. I …" Her words choked off into sobs.

"Weira, I'm so sorry, I never meant…" Zaden rushed over to hold his crying wife.

Meanwhile, outside the door prince Phobos had heard every word. He had been hoping to listen in on them speaking of what had happened to the boy who never arrived in the mines. He wanted to know if Cedric was ok, if he was alive. It seemed he had his answer 'the boy is probably dead now' ran around and around in his head like a mantra of sadness. And now he better understood why his mother hated him. Her embarrassment. Prince of nothing. Prince of dust. The words from years ago sprang to mind and he found them floating through his head with his broken mantra.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors note: To clear up a slight continuity error from the previous chapter, Cedric's mother is not aware that Cedric has, indeed, been seen by royals and Cedric is so upset at having to leave everything he knows and loves that he does not think to correct her. So yes, Phobos' mother does know what Cedric looks like, but as she thinks he is dead she is not going to look for him. Yet.**

 **I don't own W.I.T.C.H, perhaps I'll start working on buying up the rights though…**

~~~A few days later~~~

From the classroom window Phobos could see across to the central square of the city. Some kind of demonstration was going on there. He wondered idly what it was about. Then his mother's words of that night a few days ago floated back to him: 'I have to show I am a strong leader, despite producing my greatest embarrassment, my son'. Whatever it was about, he knew his mother would blame it on him, she thought he weakened her hold on the queendom, just by existing. He was a sign that the oracle-chosen Escanor family was fallible. It was all crystal clear in his mind now and he couldn't believe he'd never seen how _weak_ she was before. All her cruel words and crueller actions were the product of her own insecurity, her own fear that she did not deserve the throne. Never again would he try to be good enough for her; he would not marry to please her; he would not live in the hope that one day he would be enough.

"… Phobos, I'm speaking to you" Leigharna angrily finished.

She was frustrated that none of the other children knew the answer to her question and that she'd therefore had to turn to Phobos to answer the question so she could continue with her lesson. He was sure to know the answer, he always did. It was a little eerie. She couldn't put her finger on what, but there was something off about the boy. It wasn't just the rumours getting to her. Or the religions that spoke of the ruination of Meridian should a male heir ever be born. It was the way that he looked at the other children. If most children had been bullied as he had been they would be reserved and self-effacing, but he was proud and even at times aggressive.

He had no idea what question he'd just been asked. And there was no way he was giving her the opportunity to think of some awful punishment for being absent-minded in class.

He scowled and muttered "I don't know."

Phobos felt himself turn red. Even without the astounded mutters and jeers of his classmates this would have been incredibly embarrassing. How could he have been so stupid as to lose concentration, he mentally berated himself.

"You _don't know_? Are you being cheeky with me?" Leigharna asked with irritation.

He wished that he could blast a hole in the floor with his powers and have it swallow him up.

"I'm sorry, I don't know the answer." He repeated. It was best to be polite around Leigharna.

Leigharna narrowed her eyes at him. "In that case, after this lesson you will complete several extra assignments until you do know, very, very well."

This was so humiliating. One day she would pay.

The lesson continued without further incident. Presuming you don't consider being regularly hit in the back of the head by small screwed up pieces of parchment incident. After all, that happened to Phobos nearly every lesson.

~~~Hours later~~~

Phobos was alone in the classroom working through the extra assignments he'd been set. The questions weren't difficult for him, but there were so many! And all almost the same question, just worded slightly differently. Boredom was more than encroaching, boredom had knocked rudely on the door, entered the precinct and taken up residence.

Phobos finally finished. He kept his celebrations internal, he would not be so unrefined as to do a happy dance. He rinsed the ink from his quill, screwed the lid on the ink bottle and placed his answers to the various assignments Leigharna had set on her desk. Then he noticed the clock: it was almost seven thirty in the evening! He would be late for dinner with his family. He did not want to face Weira's anger. Not today.

He strode to the kitchens, head held high. He would not show how ashamed he felt after today's events. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn't just ashamed of himself for his failure in class: that was nothing in comparison to how he had failed Cedric. The words 'probably dead now' ghosted through his mind again. And to think, at the time he had been happy to have earned some minor victory over his mother. What did that matter if his friend was dead?

He hadn't been forceful enough; eloquent enough; he wasn't good enough, and his only friend had had to pay the ultimate price for his failings.

He was almost in tears by the time he reached the kitchens.

He entered the servant's corridor that led to the kitchens and pulled himself together. He would not cry in front of _anyone._ Servants bustled around with food, empty plates, deliveries and clean linen, but they all fairly much ignored his presence - aside from the odd look of disgust. They were used to seeing him in odd parts of the castle. He ignored them back and internally bristled at the lack of respect they showed him. His mother and father, hell, even lesser nobles, would all be greeted by bows and averted eyes.

He reached the kitchens finally. A vast array of counters, cast iron ovens and various storage alcoves met his eyes. As ever the kitchens were busy, courtiers could request food at any time so there was always a need to be cooking.

Phobos jumped up and slid onto a counter, and, enthusing his voice with false cheer asked "I don't suppose you have any food going spare?"

"Phobos," the head chef left out his title and sighed with disappointment, "You're not fooling anyone. We have heard what your teacher and her highness the Queen say about you. Your behaviour is getting worse and worse, I'm sorry, I can't reward that."

He disembarked from the counter and resumed his usual perfect deportment. There was no point fighting this battle, it seemed he had already lost. And the real war was not to be fought with mere kitchen staff, but by outwitting his mother and showing her up in front of the people. Of course, he knew the real reason he was not to be fed this evening. He wasn't a young child anymore; he wasn't effortlessly cute. And even he knew that his attempt at cheeriness must have come off as being more than a little false. On the inside he was devastated by Cedric's death and furious at himself for allowing it to happen.

"Of course." He replied to the head chef, only allowing a little of his bitterness to colour his voice.

Phobos then retreated to his chambers a little embarrassed by his attempt to convince the chef to give him food. His stomach growled loudly as he felt gnawing hunger set in. However, he could ignore it, it was better than Weira's wrath at him being late to dinner due to a failure in class. It was better than feeling trapped and unable to defend himself, as anything he said was sure to make her angrier.

A pulse of magic escaped from him in response to his frustration. His bookcases and shelves shook in response and a decorative glass rose a gardener had given him as a child smashed as it fell from the windowsill. It had seemed an odd present at the time. It had seemed odd to receive a present at all, it was something that very rarely happened to him. When he was given gifts they were usually from new courtiers who didn't understand that even Weira did not love her 'evil' son; they had misguidedly hoped to gain favour with her. Whereas this had been a genuine gift. The gardener, Daltar, had noticed how much time he spent in the gardens and had found him crying once. Daltar had not spoken to him, unlike most who simply viewed the prince with disgust, he feared that the prophecies around the prince could be true. Despite this, he wordlessly handed Phobos the small crystalline rose. Phobos was so shocked he had stopped crying and thanked the man. He was suspicious but also touched, not that he would admit to the latter feeling now. He was above palace staff.

He shook himself from his reverie. Now the rose was smashed. He picked up the shards of glass. Another mistake. The shards sliced his hands and blood dripped into the thick rug on the flagstone floor. In his anger at himself and his pain he hurled the shards from his hands and they smashed into even smaller pieces against the wall. He would have a great deal of clearing up to do later. He sat on the floor with his head in his hands, the blood from his hands smearing his face.

Then he felt it, the unsettling feeling of an unannounced presence nearby. He rose immediately and turned to the window, hair flying out and whipping around behind him. Then he saw a … large vulture? Why was there a large vulture-like bird of a species he had never seen before outside his window? He opened the window to get a better look, his curiosity taking over. To his surprise it flew in, struggling through the thin space of the arched window. Then it perched itself on the window sill and transformed into a teenage girl.

"Changeling?!" He shrieked, his shock getting the better of his eloquence.

"Wow. Cedric did say you were clever." She drawled dryly. "Why do you have blood on your face? Guess you are the brute they all say you are." She didn't sound scared, more bored and disappointed.

"Cedric sent you?" Phobos said, still shocked, but suspicion now adding an icy edge to his tone. He ignored the second half of her words. He hardly noticed them.

"Well that's what he told me his name was. Blonde kid, about yeigh high," she held her hand out a little above Phobos' head "turns into a snake and talks a lot about a new Meridian ruled by one Prince Phobos. I'm hoping that's you, blood boy, or I've really messed up." She said all this with mirth not seeming too concerned about the possibility of her having got the wrong boy.

Phobos considered the possibility of this being a trap, or a trick to get him into trouble, but it seemed too devious for his mother, and too likely to backfire for any courtier to have sent a changeling to him.

"And he sent you here because…?" Phobos matched her drawl, but humourlessly, mastering his excitement and relief at the thought of his friend being alive. He wanted her to get to the point, but he did not want to look too keen. If he let it seem as though he cared about something or someone too much life had a way of snatching it away from him.

"Palace life sure gives a guy good manners, eh?" She rummaged in a leather pouch on her battered belt and pulled out a piece of parchment before handing the letter to the prince.

He briefly wondered why she was less disgusted (brute comment aside) by him than most people were, but he supposed that changelings were also used to reactions of disgust and so did not bestow them so easily on others as the general populace did. He opened the scroll.

 _My liege,_

 _I am alive, and well enough. I suppose that you will have heard by now that I never made it to the mines. My mother advised me to run away; I did. I found a group of changelings living in the woods. They have a camp set up. Everyone has been great, well, almost everyone. But I can't really get into that. We do little missions at the edge of the city sometimes, to steal bread, clothes and stuff like that. I had to wait for the last mission to steal some paper, ink and a quill so that I could write to you. I'm sorry, I would have written sooner. We hunt for our own food and gather berries and roots. I already knew a lot about that from when food was scarce in my village. I'm very useful here. It's nice that I can still be accepted somewhere. It's nice not to have being a changeling held against me. Maybe when you rule you'll be accepted too. You'll be a great ruler and the people will realize all those nasty rumours about you aren't true. I'm training every day to get stronger so I can lead your soldiers._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Cedric_

When Phobos looked up from reading the girl said "Aarod wrote that, turns out Cedric can't write very well. I read what he wrote, the handwriting was funny," She paused to giggle, "he told me not to tell you that - he was embarrassed. Went bright red when he told us. I guess he wanted to impress you." She winked. "Hey can I read it, Cedric wouldn't let me. He's kind of secretive. He's told us _all_ about you though."

Waves of relief and happiness washed over Phobos. His friend was safe, and he was still interested in being friends. In fact, he wanted to lead Phobos' armies! He felt a little giddy and went to sit on the end of his four-poster bed. But wait, what had Cedric told his new friends about him?

"… Meridian to little Prince-boy. Let me read it already!" the girl demanded.

Phobos shot her a glare and folded the letter up and placed it in a pocket of his robes.

"If Cedric does not wish you to read it, you won't read it." He said haughtily, "And tell him to seek help learning to write better. I can't use an illiterate army general. What has he told you about me?"

"I didn't want to read it anyway." She said petulantly. "Oh, and since you never asked, my name is Zilla. And he just went on about how great Meridian will be when you rule… actually that's about all he's said, he's just said it a lot of times."

With that she transformed into bird form and made for still-open the window, the curtains and her feathers fluttering in the breeze.

"Wait," Phobos called, "I need to write back to him. You'll have to wait here a little while."

She paused and turned round.

"You don't have an aviary full of message birds in the great palace of Meridian?" She questioned mockingly.

"Of course I do." Phobos said defensively, and, ignoring the fact that he wasn't allowed access to the birds, he continued, "But how would it know where to go? You do realize that the only words they understand are addresses. Shall I just tell a message bird 'an unknown part of the forest'? And even if it miraculously found your encampment, then a _royal bird_ would know where the changelings are located. Am I not correct in thinking that you are outlaws?"

Zilla sighed angrily and transformed back to her human form. She went over to the bed when Phobos had settled himself at his desk and begun to write.

"Zilla, or whatever your name is, I don't even need to look at you to know that you are getting mud on my bed." He said referencing her unkemptness. His voice was full of condescension.

"You! You're …. You know what, I don't even care." She began with anger, before trailing of incredulously. There wasn't a swear word bad enough.

Zilla made sure to wiggle herself into the bed sheets, to ensure maximal dirt transferral.

"Stop talking. I'm trying to write." Phobos commanded.

"You're just impossible." Zilla huffed.

 _Dear Cedric,_

 _I'm relieved to hear that you are alright, I had presumed the worst. There's so much that I never got the chance to speak to you about whilst you were at the palace. The Queen is awful, my father is worse because he has no back bone, and my teacher delights in thinking up punishments for my 'misdeeds'. The other students are endlessly cruel. Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this. I don't want the only person who believes in me to think that I am weak. One day I will take my revenge on all those who have wronged me. And, I hope, you'll be with me, to laugh at them! I've been training in your absence too. My powers are the strongest they've ever been. I can make myself look like anyone I've met before! I never showed you that one. I might even be able to glamour other people too, but I obviously haven't been able to try that. I hope I will see you again soon – somehow._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Prince Phobos_

Phobos finished writing and signed his name with a flourish. His stomach rumbled loudly and he grimaced. Zilla gave him an odd look but otherwise ignored it.

"Do I need to tie this to your leg then?" he said antagonistically.

He did _not_ want to get caught up in a conversation about why he was hungry, especially not with _her_.

"Just give it here." She snapped.

Zilla tucked Phobos' letter in her pouch, transformed, and flew through the window without a backward glance.

Phobos sat down on the end of his bed – avoiding the muddy patch. His back was straight and his features composed into a mask of neutrality, but inside he was jumping for joy. He had a friend. His friend was ok. His friend would support his claim to the throne in the years to come. There was a light of hope in his life, and he would let no shadow eclipse that.

However, for now, he had the wreckage of a glass rose and a muddy blanket to contend with. He reached for his book of pressed flowers. He had an idea. He summoned all his power and concentrated on the iris he had picked a few weeks ago – it was not completely dried and so would be easier to infuse life into. He held it in one hand, and, squinting with concentration shot a thin beam of bright white light at it. He held the beam in existence for several minutes, the strain taking a toll on him. He was beginning to shake by the time the flower began to grow and change. The top half of a willowy, purple, human-like figure was finally formed among the petals of the enlarged flower, meanwhile the stem had split to form legs. Phobos knew he had exerted too much power; he had channelled some of his own life force into the flower. He collapsed back onto his bed.

"Highness?" Whispered a bemused voice.

Phobos jolted back up with shock, he had meant to create a mindless servant that he would be able to convert back into a flower with a thought, hiding its existence. He had not thought that it would be able to talk.

"I know who you are, I have some of your memories, but who am I?" The flower murmured.

"You're … Caleb." Phobos decided on a name he had read in a history book somewhere.

"What am I?"

"You're a … you're a … whisperer." Phobos took inspiration from the flower's quiet voice.

"Why do I exist?" Caleb calmly and quietly queried.

Regaining his composure Phobos said imperiously "To serve me. You will go where I tell you to go, and do what I tell you to do. Should I tell you to spy on my parents, you will do so and remember every word they say and pass it on to me. No one else. You will reveal your existence to no one else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Now. You are to follow the corridor outside my chambers right, then take a left turn, go down two flights of stairs and go through the small wooden door at the end of the corridor. If you're in the right place, there will be fresh sheets in there. Hide yourself in the alcove to the right of the door. Tell me who goes in and out and at what intervals. I need to know when I can sneak in and get a fresh change of sheets."

The whisperer disappeared through Phobos' door. He had held it open for the plant-person in fear of Caleb getting squashed. Now he looked at his hands. He had created a sentient being with them. He felt pride, exhilaration and a slight note of fear. This was no kind of power he'd ever read about. Then he realized that he also felt weak. He resolved to take a nap while he waited for the return of the whisperer.

When he awoke it was to a tidy bedroom and the news that the laundry room had been empty for at least the last half hour. Though Caleb had admitted that that was a guess, he didn't have a very good comprehension of the passing of time yet. Phobos transformed the whisperer back into a simple flower with a small blast of energy and the feeling that it would take less energy to bring Caleb back to life next time he was needed. Then he set about fetching new sheets and dumping the old ones off.

 **So, we have the appearance of two characters who feature in the comics: Daltar, Phobos' future chief gardener; and Caleb who began in the comics as a whisperer. Also, some of the names I've been using for background characters have meanings, Zilla means shadow. Do with that knowledge what you will.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Sorry for the massive delay in getting this chapter up. I will have the next one up in under a month I swear. And there will be a royal ball in it!**

 **I still don't own W.I.T.C.H. blah, blah, blah.**

~~~ 2 Years Later ~~~ Phobos is 14, Cedric is 15 ~~~

The sun had long since set on the planet Metamoor's capital city, Meridian, the night was at its darkest, and even the sounds of drunks leaving the city's taverns had all but quieted. The occasional home still had an oil lamp burning near a window, illuminating the skyline with speckles of light, as the glowing yellow lanterns' light spilled through the small iron-latticed windows. Glass was difficult and expensive to manufacture in large panes; even in the palace there were few large panes of glass. In the poorer areas of the city there was no glass at all and light emanated out of holes in the wattle and daub walls to form orange pools of light on the ground. Fires were left burning all night long in these houses with poorer insulation. Phobos took all this in from his bedroom window, which was open to allow cool air to enter. Breathing deeply, he let the scents of the city enter his lungs – the fresh smell of plants in the castle grounds, burning wood and coal fires in the less affluent homes, and the less pleasant tang of livestock by-products from farms toward the East of the main city. In the morning there would be the smell of bread from the various bakeries, and the perfumes of flowers as they opened in the castle ground.

All of this helped to calm his distress after he had had yet another nightmare from which he had awoken hyperventilating. In it he had been tortured, his mother shooting blast after blast of cruel magic at him. He had begged for her to stop only for her to begin blasting Cedric instead, who had appeared in the room from nowhere. Cedric had screamed sickeningly for a while, before one final blast had left him lying limply on the ground, dead. He had turned to his mother in his anger only to be killed himself and wake up. He thought it odd that he had had such a dream now, of all times. It had been more than a month since he had last incurred his mother's magical wrath – something of a record these days. Up until a month ago her anger at him had seemed to be growing every day.

A loud squawk alerted Phobos to move out of the way of the window as a large incoming vulture-like bird hurtled through the open space. He was still regaining his composure from staggering backward as the vulture landed and transformed into Zilla.

"My prince," she mock-bowed angrily as she handed Phobos a letter without further preamble.

Phobos snatched it out of her grip by the corner, not wanting to touch her filthy hands. The fact that the letter itself was already dirty did not seem to bother him. Zilla settled herself on the windowsill. It was uncomfortable but Phobos was aggressive with her every time she sat on his bed. In the past, Phobos had found Zilla's banter amusing as well as aggravating. Now she was mostly aggravating. She'd changed in the two years since they had met, or perhaps he had. It didn't really matter, she was of little importance. He began to read.

 _My Liege,_

 _Things are progressing well here. My lessons with Akili have finished; I am writing this letter entirely by myself, with no advice. I hope my grammar is ok, I wanted to be able to write to you without my thoughts being known by others. Zilla is becoming a problem. As you know my knowledge of hunting and gathering has led to me becoming the unspoken leader of the changeling outlaws. That and my cunning when it comes to running 'missions'. Zilla does not like my leadership. I think she has always seen herself as a leader, and has never really been my biggest fan. Nor yours. She does not trust that things can ever be different for the changelings of Metamoor. She believes that the world is against her and that no non-changeling can understand our suffering. As you requested I have not divulged your secrets to the group. They do not realize how well you understand suffering. However, it is obvious that you know what it is like to have the public think you are a monster. However, you have not been prosecuted by your mother's barbaric laws, so she believes you live an easy life in the palace. It is hard for me to change her mind on this without giving anything away. But I will not let her become a problem. As you have instructed, I will maintain my control over the group so that I can lead them by your side when you rule Metamoor. How are you? Have you found a way to reveal your mother for what she truly is in front of the people yet?_

 _Yours truly,_

 _Cedric_

Phobos finished reading and looked up at Zilla, who's eyes he had felt watching him whilst he read.

"I wonder what you two lovers write to each other, especially since Cedric wouldn't let _anyone_ read this letter. Not even Akili." She said the words with nonchalance, before continuing laughingly, but with venom only partly hidden. "Tell me, what _do_ you see in him? Or is just that he's all you've got, because no one else can stand you?"

Phobos gave a contemptuous snort at her taunts. "You're laughing, but you meant every word of that. You know, not so many years ago, I let cruel words like that get to me, make me feel like nothing. Now I realize that my life is a waiting game. I'm waiting until I rule Metamoor. When I rule, you'll see my just decisions, my mercy and my wrath. Everyone will realize that they were wrong to look down on me. I'll be a good ruler…" He trailed off, almost whispering to himself "…I'll prove myself."

"Pretty words Princey." Zilla said caustically. She looked down then, as though a chastising thought had crossed her mind. She picked at the threads of her worn cloak. Then she looked up to find the prince had begun writing his reply to Cedric.

"Phobos?" She asked tentatively.

"Yes." He replied voice heavy with irritation.

"Will you be a good ruler?" then, realizing how childish that sounded, "I mean, what will you do? How will you treat the changelings? And other outcasts?"

"Those who pledge me their loyalty and service in times of turmoil will be well provided for." Phobos answered distractedly as he continued to write.

A clock struck midnight from the city's main temple, situated near the palace. And a thought solidified in Zilla's mind. A thought that had the power to change the history of a planet. A thought to cast a shadow over hearts and minds. A simple thought, nonetheless. The thought ran thus: "Under Phobos we will have to fight. For him to retain the crown, when many will oppose a male ruler, much fighting will be required. I am tired of fighting to survive. I want to live."

Zilla felt a little shame, a little embarrassment and a little confusion about what her decision meant. If she wouldn't support Phobos, how would she gain her coveted freedom, her coveted life?

Phobos handed her his letter, raising a brow at her blushed face. "Please don't tell me you're so touched by my consideration for your people that you've developed a crush on me in the past 10 seconds." His tone conveyed distaste, sarcasm, but also self-belief.

Clearly, Phobos thought his offer to the changelings and outcasts to be a kind one. And indeed, in some ways it was, kinder than what any other ruler had offered them. And yet it wasn't enough. It was still so presumptuous, still so built on a sense of superiority. Zilla concealed all of these thoughts behind awkward, inelegant and entirely incoherent muttering.

Of course, this only fed Phobos' belief and he smirked at her, "I'm sorry, but it's not going to happen." Deep amusement coloured his voice.

Zilla left in a flustered flapping of feathered wings. She had almost forgotten to snatch up Phobos' letter to Cedric from the desk, luckily she had remembered it, meaning no embarrassing re-entry. Really, how could anyone be so smug?

~~~ The Next Evening ~~~

Phobos was sitting at his desk in the 'living room' of his chambers, which comprised a small (by palace standards) yet elegant bedroom; a room furnished simply with a table, chairs, a rug and a few chests in which he took his meals when he ate alone; an even simpler, cupboard-like room with a metal tub; and the most ostentatious of the three, the living room. Should he ever have occasion to entertain guests, which he supposed in the coming years was becoming more likely, (as his parents would begin searching for a noble to marry him off to) the living room would be where the meeting would likely occur. The living room was furnished in soft cream silks and dark red wood pieces. There was a collection of matching, upholstered arm chairs, sofas, and one straight backed chair at the desk behind the sofas. All these items were arranged neatly on an intricately woven rug, which depicted a scene of a hunt taking place in a forest. The room was lit by an array of wall-hung and mildly ornate gas lamps. Phobos much preferred the relative grandeur of this room to his others, therefore choosing to work at the desk less suited to secrecy (as the entry to his chambers lead directly into the living room, the chambers not having a hallway) than the table in the dining room.

He was, as usual, flicking through the pages of a tome intended for the perusal of scholars, or as a reference point for Queens and their advisors. Today's book covered a formative period in the history of the queendom, it was ancient history really, the tale of how the brave Escanor family had united the warring factions on the planet into one Queendom. Phobos wondered what the book wasn't saying, as it detailed numerous atrocities committed on every side apart from the (apparently infallible) Escanor's. It was as Phobos was musing on the trustworthiness of various historians that the door to his living room was flung open unceremoniously by Zaden Escanor.

"Phobos! Your mother has news to share with the family! She wouldn't tell me what it was until you were also present, Gods know why, but I believe it's good news!" Zaden's excitement was palpable.

Phobos' book fell shut with a small thump, alerting his father to its presence. "Phobos, we spoke about this, all the extra studying you do. You know it's not necessary. It's one thing to be well read and answer well in class, and another entirely to spend all your time reading! You'll put your potential suitors off. Not to mention it looks presumptuous. When you have a sister, Gods allowing," Zaden paused to make a small religious gesture and then to grin smugly, "you know it's unlikely you'll be allowed to perform even an informal advisory role for her. It would be better if you would put more effort into your fighting lessons. I remember you begging me for those years ago. Now your mother is letting you take them, and you have an opportunity to prove yourself a man, and to be of some value to the sister I hope you one day have, and I'm told you don't even try!"

Phobos sighed inwardly. Why should he learn to fight with blades and fists like a common soldier when he had magic? Magic which was still growing stronger. It scared him sometimes, how much raw power he could feel flowing through his veins: he was long past accidentally killing flowers in the palace gardens. His mastery of his powers was nuanced and intricate. Of course, there were limits to what he could do (he had nothing on his mother's level of power), and limits to what he could try (too loud of an explosion could not be explained away), but the power that suffused him, emanating from his core, was at least as beautiful to him as it was frightening. He wondered at its limits. He occasionally wondered if he could kill with it. That was what scared him. Losing control and killing someone, but it was too wonderful to give up on. And besides, by practicing with his powers, he might be preventing all that magic exploding out of him at some point in the future. Maybe. He wasn't really sure how that aspect of royal magic worked. Certainly for common women that could not happen, un-practiced magic would fade and dwindle away. But there were few books on royal magic, training was usually administered from mother to daughter with a degree of secrecy.

Phobos racked his brains for a lie, a reason to have 'not been trying'. Truth was he wasn't _not_ trying as such. His mind was just usually elsewhere, on magic or matters of governing.

Zaden interrupted the growing silence, "Well, at least you're not making excuses for once."

His father was certainly in an upbeat mood, Phobos thought with relief.

"Perhaps learning a craft would suit you better, you could take up carpentry, blacksmithing or, well, even invention, I've heard there are some men in the capital city making headway with mechanical contraptions, clockwork and the like." He said the last dubiously, as though doubting whether men could really do that.

Phobos thought about invention. He supposed telling his father he had invented sentient plants in the form of his whisperer Caleb would not be the best of ideas. And whilst he would not lower himself to carpentry or blacksmithing or anything of 'the like' he found himself increasingly curious at his father's good mood.

"Anyway, we're wasting time Phobos. We should head to dinner, your mother is waiting for us and I'm terribly impatient to hear her news, certainly if it is what I think it is…" he said, in a sudden switch from joyfulness to restlessness.

~~~ The Escanor's Private Dining Room ~~~

The dining room was already laid out when Zaden and Phobos entered. Servants were stood formally at the edges of the room ready to uncover the food they held in covered golden dishes. Weira, even in private, was seated at the head of the table, although she was dressed a little more casually than usual, her auburn locks plaited loosely and missing their usual royal crown. At her family members' entrance, she looked up regally from the cutlery she had been inspecting with detached boredom. A smile lit up her features as she made eye contact with Zaden. The smile flickered as she beheld Phobos.

"My love", Zaden spoke first, "before you share your good news with us, I must inform you that Phobos was, once again, reading books pertaining to the governance of a realm." His voice with heavy with sadness and the sense of duty that had led him to bring this matter to his wife's attention.

Weira flushed with anger, her eyes narrowing at the embodiment of her failures as a Queen: Phobos. The living proof that her power was not absoloute. "You don't change. You never learn. You do all this reading but you don't really learn anything. _It isn't your place_." She hissed, "You were not born for a position of import. You are nothing and no-one. You will be lucky if we find you a duchess or other minor noble to marry. You are lucky we give you a home. You are lucky I did not throw you onto the streets the moment you were born." She said this last with anger but also a sense of pride in her own charity.

Zaden reached out a hand to his wife's shoulder, trying to soothe her increasing anger. And because, as much as he agreed with her words, there was something intensely uncomfortable in seeing her punish their son with her magic. He did not want this to go so far.

Weira shook herself, regaining composure from the small movement. This was a happy day; she had a happy announcement. She would not let her son's continued pipe-dream of ruling Metamoor get to her any longer. She was certain that he would be heartbroken by her news; she was equally certain that he spent his spare time plotting to overthrow her. This would put his plotting to an end.

Zaden and Phobos seated themselves at the table and the servants immediately began presenting the family with the evening's opulent starter. Phobos was in his own world, pondering how one with less magic than a normal Metamoorian Queen could best govern the realm without breaching the line every magic-wielder had: if one used more power than they had they would then begin to draw power from their own life force. His mind wandered rebelliously over this topic, all the while ignoring his parent's chatter until they had finished dessert. At this point, his mother cleared her throat.

"I ought to tell you now Zaden," Phobos barely noticed that his presence had been entirely ignored "my dear, I am with child. I'm going to have a daughter!" Weira phrased her announcement uncharacteristically simply, but her voice was sing-song with happiness and relief.

Zaden thought she looked younger, glowing with her news. He felt his own face light up as he gathered her in his arms and the couple hugged ecstatically. "I'm so happy. Weira, this is brilliant news!" he exclaimed.

Phobos made awkward eye contact with a servant. He thought dryly that the servant was probably also wondering if he was supposed to have been there for this emotional exchange. Then it occurred to him, his mother had invited him not to share her happy news with her close family, but to dissuade him from continuing his studies. To prove to him that he was now entirely unnecessary and that she had won. Phobos quietly left the room.

He reached his chambers in a blur of rage. Inside he collapsed on his bed. He was unsure if he wanted to punch something or cry. The dual effect of flaming anger and hopeless disappointment made him unable to do either. Instead he lay on his bed, eyes wide open, trapped inside his own mind.

When some time had passed with Phobos in this state, it slowly dawned on him that he had not been summoned to Weira's chambers. No punishment was to follow either his reading earlier or his abrupt and un-dismissed exit from the dining room. Perhaps his unborn sister had her uses then. Protection from his mother's wrath, a distraction, that was what this new Escanor could afford him. It was a slim silver-lining, but a silver-lining nonetheless.

Phobos slowly sat up. His eye was caught by the crystalline rose he had smashed two years ago. He had since attempted to fix it with magic, and then, when that failed, (his powers were not able to do such delicate work at the time) glue. Fixing the rose by hand had resulted in many minor cuts. The rose stood now as a testament to his patience and perseverance when it came to difficult tasks. And, he reluctantly admitted to himself, it showed the importance of little kindnesses. Daltar's small gesture was a source of comfort at the oddest of times. Moreover, it made him think, perhaps he should look out for someone else. Maybe his sister would need his protection from their mother's wrath at times too. Perhaps she, though female, would fall short of expectations. And, he slyly though, perhaps she could be persuaded to abdicate the throne to him when the time came. If he had been her friend and protector throughout her childhood, surely it wouldn't be too unreasonable of a request? Perhaps she would be his friend too. Perhaps someone he saw everyday could _like_ him. He shook his head in anger at himself. Now that thought? _That_ was presumptive.


End file.
